


A Stack of Records and A Memory

by CurrentlyLost



Series: Post Office [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is A Nice Guy, Dean Is Exhausted, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 10:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20505542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CurrentlyLost/pseuds/CurrentlyLost
Summary: Dean receives a stack of records and Castiel shares a nice memory. They bond.





	A Stack of Records and A Memory

A week later, Dean trudged into the post office with a few yellow slips in his hand and sighed heavily as he waited for someone to come to the desk. It was a  _ long _ week at work. He barely made it to the post office before it closed and he was just done with the day already. He was dirty, sweaty, and he hardly got enough sleep last night so he’s sure the bags under his eyes were dark.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said as he came up to the counter. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Dean handed the slips over. “Long week,” Dean grunted, blinking hard as he tried to stay awake. Castiel took the slips and leaned against the counter instead of heading to the back. Dean sighed. “The dude kept changing his mind about the fountain, and it is  _ not _ easy to just move all that shit. And the rain earlier didn’t help. We’re on a time limit and we can’t afford to slow down. I’m surprised I even made it here before y’all closed. But since we got some major OT, the boss let me go a little earlier,” Dean ranted, rubbing his eyes to clear the sleep.

“That all sounds absolutely terrible. I’m sorry all that’s happening. Would you like some coffee? I have some in the back that I recently made. I have to stay later to finish some things up,” Castiel offered. Dean gave him a small smile, Castiel’s genuinity breaking through that wall of frustration just a bit.

“I appreciate the offer, Cas, but I don’t want to get all wired. I just want to get home and sleep until Monday morning,” he said. Then he groaned when he realized. “Nevermind. I’ll be here in the morning. I have to send out a few packages.”

Castiel felt for Dean, he really did. “That’s tough. I’ll get those packages for you so you can hurry home,” he said, giving Dean one more smile before heading to the back.

Dean felt bad for making Castiel feel like he just wanted to leave right away, but he was just  _ so _ exhausted. He wanted to get home, pack up everything, and just go to sleep. He’d apologize tomorrow morning if he was feeling better. Maybe he’d bring the guy some of that good, overpriced coffee as an apology.

“Here you go,” Castiel said, his voice tight with struggle. Dean looked up and was surprised by the tall stack of records in his arms.

“Oh, shit. I need to slow down, don’t I?”

Castiel chuckled. “I think it’s cool that you can actually buy all the records you want. I don’t even have a record player for mine. They’ve just been sitting on the bottom of my bookcase.” Castiel had a fond smile on his face as he began scanning each box. “I miss listening to them. Back when I was a young boy, my father would put them on and sit me on his lap while we drank some ice tea. He always did this when it rained and growing up in Washington, it always did.”

Dean smiled, some of the tension leaving him. “That’s a really nice memory, Cas. Your dad seems like a great man.”

“Yeah. He definitely was,” Castiel said. “He passed when I was twenty.”

“I get that. My dad also. I was fifteen,” Dean admitted. He didn’t really talk about that too much, but knowing that Castiel had experienced the same thing made him feel closer to the man, made him feel more at ease, like he could talk to him.

Castiel smiled at him, an understanding one. One that told him he wouldn’t say the words he  _ hated _ so much. He wouldn’t say he was sorry. Back when his dad passed, everyone he knew and didn’t know was constantly telling him that they were sorry. So much so that he began to despise the words. They weren’t meant to do anything but make the other person feel better about themselves. That’s why he never said those words to anyone if it involved death. Dean knew how it felt. And now he knew Castiel did, too.

Castiel pushed the records across the counter. “Here you go, Dean,” he said.

“I can open them here,” Dean offered.

Castiel shook his head. “You’re tired. Next time. Go get some rest.”

Dean smiled. “I’ll open one. How about that?” Castiel hesitated a bit before he smiled and nodded. Dean got his knife out and cut it open, his eyes lighting up when he saw a Motorhead album. “Dude, yes! I completely forgot that I'd even ordered this.” He showed the cover to Castiel who laughed.

“I only know a few of their songs. I’m not a huge fan, but I have respect,” he said, making Dean smile.

“Then who are you a huge fan of?”

Castiel smiled. “Honestly? I enjoy the Beach Boys a whole lot,” he admitted.

“I have a few of their records; I think they’re pretty sweet. I’m more of a Beatles fan, but I know good music when I hear it and The Beach Boys made some great hits,” Dean replied before letting out a yawn. Castiel made a noise of realization and smiled at him.

“You should go home and sleep now, Dean. You could use the rest.”

“Yeah, you’re right. You workin’ tomorrow?” Castiel nodded and that made Dean smile. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll be here.” Then Dean left after the two exchanged a smile.


End file.
